


Come hell or high water well I'm feeling hot and wet

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Kink-Bingo [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Watersports, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: This is a prompt-fill for my personal littleKink-Bingo. Watersports.Patrick really has to use the bathroom, but Pete has something else in mind.





	Come hell or high water well I'm feeling hot and wet

Patrick is really afraid he’s going to wet himself. He’s almost thirty and hopping from one foot to another trying to distract himself from wetting himself.

And he’s about to head on stage, so that might be the worst possible time he can imagine.

He would have taken care of it before, if it weren’t for the skin tight suit he’s wearing right now. It has already taken too long to put on in the first place and Patrick is sure he wouldn’t have made it back in time.

So he can’t go right now, because then he would miss _this_ \- _this_ being Pete’s idea to prank Panic! by walking on stage at the end of their set in black body suits and wreaking chaos. And while he is not into this whole pranking thing like Pete or Joe are, it’s actually fun as long as it’s not potato guns or getting maced on any sensitive body part.

But he needs to go bad, so bad Patrick wants to grab his crotch like a little kid that can’t hold it anymore. And the tight suit seems to add more pressure on his whole body, even though Patrick only feels it in his lower stomach.

He’s just thinking about how long it will take until he’s back in the dressing room when Pete is pushing him forward and onto the stage.

And it actually only takes a few seconds.

It’s Pete jumping up and down and hugging Brendon, its Joe _humping_ Brendon and Patrick and Andy kind of just walking around. It ends with all of them hugging and waving at the crowd; they went nuts when they realized what’s been happening.

Then it’s over and Patrick is off to their dressing room. He needs to get out of that suit, like, yesterday. He manages to get his head free while walking, not quite running, through the corridors. He ignores the tech guys and the crew he passes on his way; some of them looking at him surprised and some not even noticing.

The dressing room is – as expected – empty. He closes the door on his way to the bathroom door. Patrick twists his arms backward to get himself out of the suit.

But he can’t.

He can’t because he can’t reach the damn zipper. The suit is so damn tight, constricting his movement, that every time he grabs the zipper, his fingers can’t really hold on. It must look like a weird dance, the way he turns and twists with his arms raised behind him.

He’s about to give up, when he hears the door to the dressing room open behind him.

“Need some help with that?”

Patrick turns around to where Pete is standing, his suit already halfway off to his waist. He’s looking at Patrick with a big smile and locks the door behind him.

“Yes, please,” Patrick just says, almost sighing with relief. He’s sure he was never happier to see Pete. At least he can’t remember right now, not with all his thoughts focused on that one point in his body. He turns back around as Pete walks over to him.

But instead of feeling Pete pull down the zipper, he feels his hot hands run over his back and his damp breath on his neck.

“Skin tight looks so good on you,” Pete murmurs against his skin and Patrick shivers, almost unconsciously closing his eyes. For a moment he forgets his urgent business, but then Pete’s hands roam over his chest and down to his crotch, pressing lightly against Patrick’s body as they go and he’s reminded at once when they’re pushing against his stomach.

He stops Pete’s hands before they can reach their obvious destination.

“Wait.”

But as usual, Pete is not really listening as he frees his hands and palms Patrick’s dick through the suit. The sensation makes Patrick gasp and he spreads his legs a little in response. He moves backwards, out of Pete’s reach, but ends up just pushing against Pete’s body. He can clearly feel his dick hard against his ass through the thin material of their suits. He’s sure he could clearly see the outline, if he would turn around.

He can practically feel Pete smiling behind him and he would love to wipe that smile off his face. But his priorities lie somewhere else right now.

“I’m serious; there will be an accident, if you don’t let me go.”

Pete actually laughs against Patrick’s neck.

 “I was wondering why you were off so fast. I’m sure you can hold it a little longer.”

 “Pete, please.”

 “You know you have to say the word for me to stop.”

 _Oh god_ , Patrick thinks. Pete is serious. Of course he turns this around so it’s Patrick’s decision.

And yeah, he could get out of this in a second, now that Pete pointed it out. But does he really want to? Somewhere inside his head, this all makes sense. It makes sense that he’s trapped between Pete’s hand and ass, between ruining his briefs; which way he’s not sure.

Before he can make up his mind he’s pulled out of his thoughts by one of Pete’s wandering hand, which is now back up on his neck, while his lips are mouthing at the skin just behind Patrick’s ears. Pete starts to pull down the zipper and Patrick feels hope, feels that much closer to getting his suit off.

Until Pete stops and resumes kissing the newly exposed skin on Patrick’s back instead. He abandons the zipper altogether and drops his hand again, holding Patrick by his hip. It feels good, it feels like he’s about to burst and Patrick lets out a frustrated moan.

“Pete.”

This time Pete sighs – overdramatically in Patrick’s opinion – but turns his attention back on the zipper. He pulls it down, in one swift motion and Patrick feels instantly more at ease, like he has more space to exist in now that the constricting suit is giving way.

Patrick pulls the sleeve off his arms not a moment later and moves to pull the suit down his legs, but Pete stops him yet again, pushing his hand back down Patrick’s chest an into his briefs, wrapping his hand around Patrick’s dick.

Patrick moans. “You’ve got to be- kidding me.”

Pete shushes him and wraps his free arm around Patrick’s lower body, right over his bladder, spreading his hand out over the skin. Pete must feel how tightly his muscles are clenched right now, how hard he tries to control himself.

He moves back again, trying to escape Pete’s touch, but he’s still trapped and Pete moans when Patrick pushes back against him now.

He tightens his arm around Patrick and Patrick can’t help but moan again. He shakes his head against Pete’s.

“Pete, please, I really have to go,” he says. And his voice sounds desperate to his own ears, but he can’t help it. He is desperate.

Pete moves his hand slowly, jerking Patrick in time while rubbing against him from behind. It feels good, but it’s also torturous.  His whole body is tense, the muscles in his stomach clenched tight. He’s sweating from the effort. It’s getting harder to concentrate and with every touch it feels like Pete is pushing against his bladder.  Like everything is pushing against it.

Patrick twists his body as much as he can to escape Pete’s touch, but Pete is surrounding him; he’s everywhere.

“ _Pete_.” 

Pete seems not affected by Patrick’s pleas, because he just keeps jerking Patrick, his hand tightening on every down stroke and his thumb rubbing over the head of Patrick’s dick, slippery with pre-cum.

The other hand is still spread across his belly. Patrick can’t help himself as he moans again. He has no idea what to do.

Patrick doesn’t think he can come, not when he’s fighting so hard not to relax, but it feels like he’s close anyway. It’s overwhelming; it burns and it aches. Patrick wants to hold on, to not lose it, but Pete is doing everything, pushing every one of Patrick’s buttons, to change that and it feels a lot like it’s working. Patrick can’t hold it much longer, he doesn’t know how.

 “Pete,” Patrick says. “Please.” It’s a weak attempt and Patrick knows it.

Pete ignores him, choosing instead to bite at Patrick’s shoulder and neck, mindful not to get too high up and leave any visible marks, even though to Patrick it feels like Pete ripped right through his skin.

Patrick drops his hand between his legs to stop Pete, to grab at his own dick, but he knows it’s useless; Pete is on a mission.

And then Pete bites into his neck, still not hard enough to actually break the skin, but enough to shake Patrick’s concentration, to make him unclench all his muscles. He feels a hot spurt bursting out, into the suit and into Pete’s hand.

Pete gasps, and Patrick’s face heats up from shame.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, sorry.”

Pete doesn’t say anything. He just keeps rubbing over Patrick’s stomach, still putting a little pressure on Patrick’s belly, while his hand on Patrick’s dick starts to move faster.

“It’s okay, come one,” Pete whispers into his ear and he repeats it again and again, urging Patrick on.

Patrick shakes his head **no** while Pete whispers **yes, yes, yes** against his neck.

And then he presses down onto Patrick’s stomach and Patrick can’t. He might as well have been punched in the gut. He can’t hold it any longer and with stuttered breath he relaxes.

It feels so good; Patrick can’t tell if he is not actually having the best orgasm of his life instead of just wetting himself. He feels it everywhere in his body and it seems to go forever and Pete never stops jerking his dick and pushing against his ass.

He is still whispering encouragements into his ear, too, like _that’s it_ and _so good_ and things that Patrick can’t really comprehend. He’s not pressing down onto Patrick’s stomach anymore, it’s not necessary now that Patrick gave up the fight, but instead is rubbing soft circles into his skin.

When the flow stops and Patrick feels utterly empty, can actually form coherent thoughts again, the pleasure he felt just moments ago slowly disappears, another feeling taking its place.

Oh god, he just pissed himself, in front of Pete.

Patrick turns around jut as Pete pulls his hand out of Patrick’s suit.

He is staring at him, his eyes dark and blown and Patrick’s face heats up again under his intense stare. He swallows once to clear his throat.

“I couldn’t…. I’m so sorry, I’m so--”

 “Stop talking,” Pete says, shaking his head before pulling his hand out of Patrick’s suit and pushing it into his own. The hand he has been jerking Patrick with, the hand that is wet from him losing control. And he’s getting himself off on that.

Which is surprisingly hot, Patrick admits. And it makes the shame Patrick feels disappear little by little with every grunt and moan.

“Fuck,” Pete moans.

He pulls Patrick close with his other hand and crushes their lips together. It’s just their open mouths, Patrick sharing Pete’s desperate breaths, halted by Pete biting his lip and letting out little moans in time with every stroke of his hand.

“Patrick,” he breathes and then he’s coming.

Pete holds onto Patrick as he strokes himself through his orgasm, Patrick can feel him shiver against him and then Pete’s forehead rests against his own.

Pete smiles, that utterly satisfied smile he just gets after a good orgasm.

“I’m not sure what just happened, but it was fucking hot. You were so hot.”

Patrick wants to say _yes, it was_ , but the words get smashed between them when Pete pulls him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing.
> 
> This was kind of hard to write, because I didn't want it to end up crude or something. I'm pretty happy with it being a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.
> 
> If you want, you can also send me a prompt or number for my [Kink-Bingo](http://thatguyinachiffonskirt.tumblr.com/post/148848601152/kink-bingo), I would be really happy about that.


End file.
